Life in Daylight
by kellani celina
Summary: The harrowing scattered the bands, driving them to new lengths for survival. Kala, the last of her band, was driven to the sun for protection.
1. Chapter 1

The moonlight reflected on the beetle's carapace. It was fat, glossy black, and wonderful. Elizabeth's eyes shone with excitement as she caught it, its scrabbling claws tickling the back of her hands. Gently, she set it back down, giving it a head start before she went to catch it again. But before she could, a small booted foot stamped on it.

"Don't touch that! It's gross." Announced a little girl.

Elizabeth looked up questioningly, saddened by the loss of her plaything. "No it isn't." She retorted, her eyes welling with tears at the injustice of it all.

"Of course it is." The other girl said firmly. "Look at how oozy it is." She scraped the remains from her shoe with a blade of grass and stared at Elizabeth. "But you aren't gross at all. You're really pretty." Her green eyes snapped as she handed Elizabeth a doll. "You can play with this instead."

Elizabeth was lost in the girl's authority, she hesitated and looked hopefully at the woods where her father was hunting. He had made her promise to stay in the circle of trees while he was away. Not knowing what else to do she asked, "can I?"

"Of course," said the girl, shaking out her black hair for emphasis. "Daddy promised me that he would play, only then he fell asleep." She dropped her voice. "Can I tell you a secret?"

Elizabeth nodded.

"Okay. I wished on that star for someone to play with. I wished it harder than anything I've ever wished for. And then… you came!" The girl smiled. "It's really exciting, even though you were playing with a nasty bug."

No one had told Elizabeth that stars were for wishing, although her mother had taught her some of their names. She didn't doubt the strange girl though. She copied the girl's motions, played with her doll, and watched the moon sail across the sky. Surely her father would come back soon.

A little while later, the strange girl looked at her again, pausing the game. "What's your name anyway?" she asked.

"Elizabeth?"

"Elizabeth, can I tell you another secret?"

"Of course."

The bold girl leaned forward, kissed her on the cheek and whispered. "I also wished for a sister."


	2. Chapter 2

"I'm an excellent hunter, I can feed her as well as myself" the young man's voice clearly carried through the camp, although it may have been shaking slightly. "When she turns eighteen…"

"Wait," another man spoke up, "I hear what you are saying, but if you get any nearer to that tent, so will she." His voice dripped intimidation.

The younger man obeyed, there barely a sound as he whispered "yes sir."

Footsteps echoed, growing louder as the older man left him. Leaves rustled, and the tent shook as the man undid the leather thongs. "Kala, there is something I must tell you," her father opened the flap, the bright moon flooded the space with light.

Kala was dazzled by the brightness, and brimming with excitement. "Yes?" She was unable to keep from smiling.

"I'm afraid that there has been another attack." The man said grimly. He ducked his head into the tent and watched his daughter's smile fade. "Ban is dead, and Callow. Velin was taken."

Abruptly Kala realized that the bright light was actually the winter's pale sun. That her father, although apparently calm, had lines etched into his handsome feature; that his black eyes were dulled by anger and grief.

"How?" she asked, closing her eyes against the shock as much as the sunlight. But she knew. The border spell had failed, the goblins had already taken the King's Camp, and that no matter how fast the refugees fled, Marak Whiteye would never forget about them.

"Ban was on listening patrol. I can only assume that the children ran after him as an adventure. I've already taken the liberty of burying them. We have to go." The camp lord held out a length of dark green cloth. "Cover your eyes with this and take down your tent. We need to be out of this area before nightfall, before they can track us, and take you."

Obeying, Kala gave her father a hug. "I love you."

"I'm sorry for your loss." He replied, and gave her a stick to act as her daytime eyes.

Listening patrol, Kala cursed it and swiped the ground with her stick in despair. It was something Ban and her devised when they were first on the run. It was a necessity that Kala had always resented, because it put her loved ones in danger. But her father had been military commander to the elf King, and in the remnants of this band, his word was law. And now Ban was dead, his children too.

Her father had known that she had fallen for Ban, making his death even harder. The widower had been handsome, young enough for remarriage, and the only eligible man in camp. She could easily picture his dark blue eyes, not noble, but still beautiful. Of course she could, she had spent many hours staring at him, idolizing him, watching him play with his children. All wasted, although she had hoped he would ask for her. They had had the conversation actually. Under a moon filled sky, he had promised her that he was only waiting for his children to leave his tent, and that when they would he would talk to her father. Kala believed him, and waited impatiently. Before the attacks started, her father was in the process of negotiating her betrothal; that elf had been killed in the first wave.

But she still waited, because Ban did not want her to mother his children forcibly. As if she could. Blond Velin was twelve to her seventeen, and lived in the tent next store. Bubbly and active, she was like all adolescents, sticking her nose into everything and hoping not to be bitten. Velin's brother, Callow, was blond as well but with striking grey eyes instead of blue. At nine, he was about to move in with his sister, and learning to hunt. These were her friends, not her children, and now they were dead.


	3. Chapter 3

Eventually, after an eternity of stumbling in enforced darkness, the light lines at the edges of her blindfold faded to black. She removed it cautiously, blinking as pressure caused lights flashed around her. She paused, and saw her father stop for her. "It's getting late." She called softly. Indeed the sun was setting around her casting everything with a reddish glow. Before the attacks started, she had only seen the sun on a dare. In the last few years it was almost a common sight.

"I know. We have to strategize what to do. The goblins could be anywhere." He surveyed the area. They had travelled in approximately a straight line for the last several hours. Moving blindly, they had not made good time, only travelling about six miles. They had left a visible trail. "We should keep walking."

"Father, we're near a human settlement." Kala offered. "I can see the lamps." She could see details of the village too; another mile away to the south, but the twinkling flames both drew her eyes and repulsed her.

"Then we will have to be even more careful. Humans don't travel at night, but I do not want to take chances. Not now." Kala watched him carefully. He pressed his hands to his temples, a motion he usually made when he was stressed. "We will keep moving south until we are out of goblin territory, out of the elf King's forest. Once there, we will find a new home."

"What's the point?" Muttered Kala bitterly. "Everyone is dead. We're the last surviving elves. Why would we possibly leave the comfort of the forest to spend our last days together, to spend them alone elsewhere?" Ban was dead. She would never have the children that she had dreamed of. She wouldn't hold flowers or dance on her marriage moon.

"There could be other survivors. We survived."

"You're the late elf King's military commander. If our band didn't make it, no one will." Kala shouted, and then she stopped. Not only were elves reserved, but shouting could draw goblin or human attention. "Now, I don't feel like dying tonight. I propose that we go down to the village and stay in an inn. The goblins would never be able to get us there. We can stay until late afternoon and then travel through the night. What do you think?"

Her father clasped his hands in thought. "Kala, I don't like this plan at all, however we need to rest. This last day and night were very difficult. I will respect your judgment." He began walking towards the village stiffly. "Come daughter."

Kala followed him, tying the blindfold into her hair. When she reached him, she clutched his outstretched hand gratefully. She was astonished he let her lead, proud that he trusted her, and more than a little afraid for the coming night.


	4. Chapter 4

They walked in silence to the gate where Kala, if this hadn't been her plan, would have balked. There was a wooden wall erected haphazardly around the perimeter- it was sealed by a strong hinged gate. At the moment, it was half open, a sharp eyed man watching them intently. Within the fence, thatched hovels leaned every direction possible. There were no women about, but loud bearded men were swaggering, boasting, and toasting reeking mugs of ale.

The guard waved them through lazily, lecherously checking out Kala's body. To her father the man said "That's a pretty woman you have there. I'd bed that."

"She is only a child." The commander was fluent in English and his tone was dark enough to make the man flinch.

"My apologies Sir," he said. But he didn't take his eyes off Kala. Her father glared until the guard looked away then steered her through. Kala smelled burning fabric, the hand her father had on her shoulder was singeing her cloak.

The looks and comments didn't stop as they travelled through the streets in search of an inn.

"You're a lucky man," a pockmarked man said.

"Look at those eyes," a plain man pointed her out to his friend.

"Her eyes? What is wrong with you," the potbellied man scolded, "Look at her legs."

"How much do they charge for a woman like that?"

"More that you could ever afford."

Most insulting, a balding man with goblin red hair whistled at her. With each man they passed her father's grip tightened and his scowl deepened until Kala was wincing in pain.

"Hey there!" Her father swiveled towards the next offender. "Didn't you know that women shouldn't be outside after sunset?" The newcomer was cleaner than most, with floppy brown hair and earnest eyes.

Kala couldn't help herself, despite a warning glare she used one of the few English words she had mastered. "Why?"

The boy, he couldn't be much more than that, smiled. "Well, I think it's mainly because of those louts." He gestured to the men around him. "But there've been some kidnapping a few villages over- at Hallow Hill." He dropped his voice theatrically, "they say that the girls are taken by goblins as brides, dragged underground, and that they're never seen again."

Kala tensed and her father stood still. He was concentrating, listening, "Goblins? Here?"

"Well it's just a story," the boy remarked sheepishly, "my Ma uses it to keep my little sisters inside and out of trouble."

"Do you know somewhere we can stay?" Kala couldn't believe that her father was asking help from a human boy. Back in the camp he had been a strong advocate for adding a shocking spell-fence to the camp border that would target anything but elves.

"Well this village is too small for an inn, but I'm sure my Ma would let you sleep in front of the fireplace. She sometimes takes in travelers."

"Lead on, and I promise to reward you for your generosity." Her father didn't necessarily give the command absently, but clearly his head was in another realm. Kala knew that he was searching for goblins. His magical specialty was extrasensory perception. He had a strong preventative gift and knew when attacks came well before they did. It was excellent at keeping him safe, but was preoccupied. "Ahh!" Faster than anyone could react a cut purse raced in and, seeing that the commander had no money bags, stabbed him in the stomach.

The boy ran back and grabbed Kala's father around the waste, frantically feeling for blood. "My house isn't much farther, we can tend you there." Together he and Kala supported him to a sturdier than average house.

"Ma?" the boy shouted, "I've got an injured man here! And a girl. They're looking for a place to stay!"

A stocky woman peered out the door with two little girls clinging to her skirts. She eyed the travelers warily, as Kala would do in her position. "Bring them in Peter," she said, "I've got a fresh pot on the fire and I'm a deft hand at stitching."

Kala wasn't comfortable with the situation but, not knowing what else to do, allowed herself to be chivvied inside. At the last moment, she took a last look at the smoke obscured stars and prayed that her father would recover quickly.


	5. Chapter 5

Her father should have recovered by now, Kala thought. Elves didn't get sick, but two days after Peter's mother stitched him, he was fighting infection. Based on everything that happened, Kala guessed that the shock had somehow affected his defensive magic and immunity. Kala couldn't offer money for her father's care but she helped around the house as best she could. Busy hands, she discovered, helped ease a troubled mind.

Peter's mother, Elizabeth Coplin, ran a tight ship. She ordered her children around, demanding results, and had extended this attitude to Kala. Kala was absolutely willing to help, although her eyesight was very limiting. She had explained that both she and her father suffered from a condition that caused debilitating headaches when they were exposed to sunlight. Mrs. Coplin believed her story, giving Kala tasks she could perform blindfolded during the day. They were simple tasks, like weaving and watching the children, but Kala was thankful that she could repay the woman this way.

Amelia and Louise, Peter's sisters, were twin bundles of energy. However Kala had discovered that they were mesmerized by scary stories. As an elf who'd seen the harrowing, Kala had plenty of wild tales. Mrs. Coplin was more liberal with her daughter than most women, and was content to let them listen, provided that they were also doing something productive.

Kala was midway through the story of Lionclaw when her father called Peter to his bedside. She caught the boy's confused glance. Her father had maintained a stony silence since they had arrived, occasionally sparing Peter an appraising look. Not trying to seem overly curious, Kala continued her story mindlessly, listening.

"Peter?"

"Yes Mr. Tanlis?" the commander had given the humans his first name as a surname to make them more comfortable.

"I'm dying."

Peter could not refute the fact. The stab wound should have killed the elf already.

"Are you engaged Peter?"

"No." There was nothing more to say.

"A sweetheart perhaps? Someone around town you are courting?"

"No sir. Ma needs me around the house too much for me to meet many women."

"Peter I need to ask you a favor." Kala listened more intently. "My daughter is in danger here until she is married." Her father started, "I don't have money to repay your family for your aid, but if would like, I will give you my blessing to wed my daughter."

Peter gulped. "You don't have to do that sir," he protested.

"A dying man doesn't have to do anything. But I would like to provide a future for my daughter. You seem like an upstanding man, the kind of man that I could trust to take care of Kala."

"I would be honored to marry Kala," Peter replied solemnly. "That is, if Kala wants to marry me."

"This isn't Kala's choice. We come from a culture different than yours. She has been waiting for me to give her away since she was barely older than your sisters. Although," he gave a weak laugh, "I've never heard of a father asking a man to marry his daughter. Normally the suitor asks."

Peter chuckled in return, sounding poleaxed. All thoughts of Lionclaw gone, Kala knew that if she weren't eavesdropping, she would have fainted. Marry a human? Not only was she too young for marriage, but humans were weak, repulsive, and non-magical. Her father was condoning her to a lifetime of secrecy, to a lifetime in the sun.

"If you have an officiator in town, I would like it if you were married at moonrise tonight."

"Tonight? So soon?" Peter now sounded panicky.

"Full moons and weddings go together," explained the commander.

"There is a priest visiting."

"Excellent. Now I know that in your culture consummation of marriage is crucial to make it legal. But in my culture Kala is too young. My daughter, by marrying you will lose everything she knows. Please promise me that you will not be intimate with Kala until she is eighteen, on the first full moon in spring. Not even a kiss." Kala looked towards her father and saw him gripping Peter's hand.

"I promise." And with that, Kala fainted.


	6. Chapter 6

Strong scents yanked Kala back into reality. The bustle of quiet industry had changed to open, albeit organized, chaos. Peter was gone, Amelia and Louise were dragging a trunk across the floor, and her father was still bedridden, watching the spectacle with cool eyes. As Kala tried to reason through the changes, Mrs. Coplin removed the smelling salts from under her nose and shook her shoulders.

"I know you overheard the conversation between my son and your father girl, but we still have to do this right by both cultures." She stood and straightened her skirt briskly. "Now, your father has caused a commotion certainly. You need to go talk to him and then I expect you reporting right back to me. There is a lot that we must prepare in very little time." With that she whisked away to help her daughters.

Pulling herself from the chair, Kala walked over to her father's bedside. The fainting spell had left her exhausted; the news had left her overwhelmed. Her father started formally, his eyes fixed on her's, flat black and offering no room for argument. "Kala, I have something to tell you." Even bedridden he was every inch a military commander.

"Yes father?" Kala unthinkingly responded in the pause he left. She was unable to add enthusiasm, she was dead inside. She knew what was coming. Marry a human? She may as well be dead in the ground. Equally useful she'd be to her people in either scenario.

"Peter and I have had a discussion," the ritual gave no pause for Kala to protest. "He has shown himself to be determined, intelligent, and capable." This wasn't right; it was supposed to be Ban, who was a strong hunter, a good father, an elf. "We have agreed that you and he will be betrothed. The ceremony will happen tonight in their fashion. As a compromise, on your marriage moon, your vows will be renewed. From this night forward you will take your food from him now."

Tears sparkled in the corners of her eyes. There was nothing she could say to cancel the betrothal. Her father's word was law regarding her marriage. In society, normally a woman's lack of legal independence didn't matter. An elf man looked out for his sisters, his wife, his daughters, and their input was valued. But her father was ignoring her, sentencing her to humanity. Kala had eyes as black as any noble. Her proud blood boiled.

"How could you?" She burst out finally. The pause gave her assent, but she wanted to make her disapproval clear.

"I am trying to give you a future."

"You could have waited until we find more… people like us. I could have waited until after my marriage moon, or even forever."

"Why?" he asked. "Kala there is information that I never shared with you that has influenced my decision. The elf harrowing ended when you were barely more than a baby. I was there when our band received the letter from the goblins. It said that Whiteye was dead, that we didn't need to worry about raids anymore, that we were safe. Obviously some of us didn't believe it.

"The band I was leaving started moving erratically. Trying to maintain a semblance of normal life, while still staying hidden we told you that this was how a normal elf camp worked. When the attacks started again, I knew that they were unauthorized but that they would continue. We decided to tell everyone that the attacks were part of the harrowing, that nothing had changed with the goblins. Over fifteen years later there are still raids on our camps!"

He dropped his voice, hoping that the Coplin's hadn't been paying attention. "Ban is dead, Kala. Velin is underground right now. You would question why I'm giving you to Peter? It's because anything is preferable to her fate."


	7. Chapter 7

Kala waited behind a curtain in a borrowed dress. White against her skin, Mrs. Coplin's wedding dress provided a sharp contrast against her darker features. The dress fit well after a few alterations; apparently Mrs. Coplin had been slender in her youth. Despite the fit though, Kala was incredibly uncomfortable. Impatiently she picked at the fabric, a white lace, wearing it was going against everything she stood for.

Sour notes on a fiddle caused acid to rise in her stomach. Louise was talentless compared to any elvish musician. The songs that should have played at her simple ceremony had notes too fast for the clumsy fingers of a human. As Louise missed another note, her father opened the curtain to bring her to her groom. Only this made any sense, the father giving away his daughter.

"You look lovely," he said.

"I look like a human." Even her hair had been styled unusually. The ringlets had been tied up, leaving only a few strands covering her ears. Mrs. Coplin would have put those up too, had Kala not pitched a fit. Her father said nothing, but both the set of his shoulders and the set of his brow warned her that arguing was not permitted. He gripped her arm, perhaps a little too tightly, and led her from her seclusion.

During the day, she had helped rearrange the room so there was a short central aisle leading to an open area by the hearth. She'd helped Amelia and Mrs. Coplin clean while her father watched like a hawk, while Louise practiced slaughtering the wedding march, while Peter was about town. Now, up that aisle her father limped with her in tow, every squeak causing her to cringe. She felt increasingly faint as she approached Peter, and she thanked the first fathers that their ideal of beauty did not include perspiration.

A short eternity later, she stood across from Peter as a wrinkled human in an outrageously ornate hat started to drone in a language she didn't understand. Judging by the glazing eyes of the guests, no one else did either. Peter's eyes were wide, and where he clasped her hands, she could feel the sweat from his palms. Tempted to sneer at the grossness, she unthinkingly squeezed his hands encouragingly. She was rewarded with a nervous smile. She watched Peter swallow, and the priest continued his sermon.

Wildflowers from Peter's cousin Alice made up her bouquet. As the ceremony continued, she became increasingly grateful for them. She fingered their stems and inhaled their fragrance, never looking away from Peter. The audience made her anxiety increase, but the boy looked like he was about to fall over. He would never live down such an embarrassment. If he did, it would be a story she'd be hearing about for the rest of her life.

The priest's shift into English caught Kala by surprise. Peter was drawing closer, her heart rate jumped as his darting brown eyes filled her vision. They were the only thing she could see, filled with concentration and purpose. At the last moment before the kiss he turned his head slightly, touched her cheeks with feather light lips, and pulled away. The next moment, a wooden ring was slipped onto her finger. Onto the third finger on the left hand which, to humans represented marriage. To Kala it was merely a visual reminder that she was shackled to the human world forever.


	8. Chapter 8

"I carved that for you today," said Peter. The reception had been short lived, there was only so long her tears could be passed off as exhilaration. Now Kala and Peter lay together under a cheerful patchwork quilt- a gift from their neighbors. Her father had stayed at the Coplin's explaining that even an untraditional couple needed to spend some time alone together. This message had been delivered with warning glances for Peter.

"Did you?" Kala examined her ring dispassionately. The circle of rosewood was carved inexpertly with leaves.

"Yes. I noticed you were uncomfortable with some of our metal objects." Kala winced. "And I thought that since your eyes are so sensitive that wood is less reflective than gold or silver."

He wasn't supposed to notice the metal phobia. Metal was a goblin thing, something that elves abhorred. But humans used it too, his discovery made her acting seem shoddy. She was touched by his thoughtfulness. Although elf men were normally sensitive and playful, they didn't always realize when their teasing went too far. Looking on the ring again, slightly more tenderly, she said "it's very pretty. Thank you."

"You're welcome." He grinned impishly, almost elvishly. "Although I only told you the reasons that make me look good. I'd rather you think I was sweet than cheap. I wasn't expecting to get married when I woke up this morning and house prices only ever increase it seems."

Aside from the pallet they were laying on, the other wedding gifts were wrapped still. The small pile nearly filled the one room house. The moonlight flooded in the hole that was acting as a window- Kala knew that they would have to invest in dark curtains. Overall though it was a safe house with a small garden plot backing up to the forest, and was as comfortable as possible for Kala. Peter couldn't have found a better place had he searched for a year and known her since childhood.

Peter's hands entwined themselves in her hair. "So why exactly am I not allowed to kiss you?" If Kala was a human girl, the warmth in his eyes would have melted her resolve.

Kala though was an elf girl, not even a woman. "I'm too young to kiss." Therefore, she wasn't swooning; she was taken aback at his advances. She pulled away slightly trying to make it obvious that she was uncomfortable.

"A man has to try, after all apparently the wedding night is supposed to be special. But it's okay. Your father said something about the first full moon of spring?"

"It's the night that a girl becomes a woman," Kala started. "We call it the marriage moon. A woman's eighteenth birthday is the day that she gets a husband in my society. My father gave me to you, but I think he wanted to have something to remember everything by."

"But the full moon changes date between years."

Kala knew that a human would never understand. "It's symbolic." With that she disentangled herself from Peter, rolled over, and tried to sleep.


	9. Chapter 9

A loaf of brown bread steamed on the table, nutty aromas filled the small house. Kala stared at it predatorily. Flour coated her brown elf dress- the human dresses Mrs. Coplin had ordered for her were still at the tailors. Kala was learning to cook like a human and the fires seared her eyes and heart. The results though offered a huge temptation. One hand shakily reached for the bread then slammed back onto the table. Peter would know if she stole his food.

Hunger warred with tradition, and it was starting to win. A week after the wedding, her thing frame was growing gaunt, her pale skin was turning waxy, and her hair was lank and dull. Peter had not been feeding her. The meals she prepared always shad leftovers that she would dutifully, albeit covetously, pack as his lunch for the next day. But she couldn't ask for food, she must be submissive to his will. As the hunter who provided the food, it was rightfully his decision whether she could share it.

Maybe just a taste? There was a corner that appeared burnt and Kala couldn't serve her husband inferior food. She broke off a small chunk and held it to her lips. She licked it first to savor the taste then opened her mouth to finish it. The door swung open after a cursory knock and Mrs. Coplin swept in grimly.

"I'm sorry to interrupt you if this is a bad time."

"No," Kala returned the bread to the counter. Caught stealing by her mother in law? She could have died of the shame. A dull flush did nothing to improve her haggard features.

"It should be Peter telling you this but I couldn't take him from his work and you needed to know."

Mrs. Coplin rarely temporized. "What is it?"

"I am afraid your father has passed." Kala stared at her unblinkingly. "He's with Jesus now." She said it as a conciliation, Kala staring had made her visibly uncomfortable. Her father had stayed with Elizabeth Coplin while recovering. Initially it was for privacy, but Peter thought it was because he was too weak to be transferred. Kala wondered if Mrs. Coplin felt guilty.

Kala moaned slightly.

Mrs. Coplin patter her arm a little and was back to business. "Honey I know that this is hard for you. It's so soon after the wedding and everything, but we need to make arrangements for the body. Did you know his wishes? Cremation has been popular recently…"

Burning? The horror of a goblin burial left Kala swaying. "No! I will bury him. In the forest. An unmarked grave. He would expect me to do it myself."

Kala was being pushed onto the bed by a sea of faces. All resembled Mrs. Coplin. She stared at the ceiling, counting the nails to avoid the people. The house was too bright, there was no air movement. Kala felt herself reaching towards the foot star of the warrior ready to slam all the heat from the house. She moved her hands out sensing with her eyes closed.

"Here." Mrs. Coplin handed her a mug and the bread chunk. "You should eat this honey, you're going into shock. You look absolutely terrible."

Kala lost her grip on the magic and was retching over the edge of the bed. Simultaneously she was scrambling away from her caretaker. Only bile was coming up, and in between heaves she shouted "you can't feed me! I can't eat your food!"


	10. Chapter 10

"We can't keep living like this."

"Peter, I'm trying…"

"No! It's like living with a crazy person. We live in the dark, you won't go outside, and you don't even let me touch you."

"Peter, its only three more weeks, be reasonable. I lost everything, please try and understand."

"Oh I've tried to understand you, but I am running out of patience. The men at town ask me whether I go home every night to a witch. They say that you must have charmed we with some potion because I don't get sex."

Kala was mildly embarrassed. "Well then," she pursed her lips in disapproval. "If you are desire intimacy so badly, then go to some tavern somewhere and find a casual woman there! Did I phrase that right?"

"Sort of. But I don't want some harlot. All I want is my wife!"

"Well you have a child bride for three more weeks. At the full moon you can do whatever you want with me."

"Oh I will." His eyes darkened. "In the mean time put on your best dress, we're going into town."

"Into town? But we can't. I'm day blind, and at night all the shady characters come out."

"Today is Sunday. And thankfully you don't need eyes to sit in a church. Now go put on your dress, I mean to show people that my wife is beautiful, albeit crazy."

"Tell me what you see?" Kala grumbled impatiently. "I can't walk around completely blinded." She had tied a hair ribbon over her eyes, it was easier to deceive the humans than explain. She knew that her questioning annoyed Peter, but his uncharacteristic outburst unsettled her so it was only fair. Peter obliged her and began listing the names of the people, and the stores, and the colors of dresses. Kala ignored him and listened to her surroundings, refusing to be caught off guard.

"This is the church." Peter said, his voice echoing off the stone building before him. Even unable to see it, Kala figured that it was a 'marvel of human architecture.' He let go of her hand for a second to pay their offering. That was all the time it took, a beggar made use of his absence and pawed at her waist. Faster than a human eye can track, Kala thrust her fist forward. The sound of crushing cartilage and bone also echoed off the church. She adjusted her skirts in the way that she'd seen Elizabeth Coplin do, and wiped her hands on her handkerchief. The smell of iron filled the air.

"That bitch there hit me!" The beggar yelped; his voice was whiny, nasal, and decidedly unpleasant. Kala decided then that most human things were.

"I wish that I could see you so that I could hit you again." She snarled.

"Kala…" Peter sounded upset.

"What's going on?" A man bellowed, the beggar was silenced and the new man's heavy footsteps were clearly heard. Kala firmed up, straightened her shoulders, and opened her mouth.

Peter didn't give her the opportunity. "Pardon our behavior Father." He began.

"That man's your father? I thought that he was recently deceased."

"That man is the bishop," Peter whispered. "Forgive my wife, she is blind and we came this morning to pray for her healing. This man's approach must have startled her. She overreacted, I promise that it will not happen again."

"He was trying to steal my purse." Kala interjected loudly.

"Not helpful."

The bishop mulled it over, and the beggar took the opportunity to scramble away. "Perhaps, Mr. Coplin, you should take your wife home to calm herself. Also have her say three Hail Mary's and five Our Father's. I would also recommend purchasing an indulgence because public brawling is a sin against men and against God."

Kala almost asked, but Peter gave the bishop a few coins and was steering her way. The great iron bells on the church were tolling, vibrations were running through her whole body, and any stragglers scuttled into church. "Peter I' m sorry."

"Don't be," he squeezed her hand, "that beggar has made moves on my sister's before. Once he said something so foul to Amelia that I whacked him with my stick. I've never seen anyone hit him as well as you did though, you hit well for a girl. Who taught you to throw a punch?"

"Nobody." She hardly could tell Peter that her defensive magic made attacking people instinctive. She changed the subject hastily. "Did you really hit him with a stick? I wish that I could have seen that!"

"You're a natural then. And of course I did. When I saw that creep with Amelia, I marched myself right over and gave him a thorough beating. But as enjoyable as it was, I certainly am glad that my mother didn't see it!" Kala laughed. "I only wish I could have smacked that poxy man really well for you…"

"I wish that I could have seen his face!"

"No you don't" Peter said.

"Tell me what he looks like?"

"Sort of like a cross between a cow and an aardvark. He's really short with hair that's so greasy it drips and he has a huge pustule covered nose."

"I felt that." Kala said. "I think he oozed on my hand."

Peter was laughing with her, just a husband and wife enjoying their Sunday. Kala found herself being swung around the square in a human style dance. She smiled delightedly, knowing that even without Ban she could still have a life.


	11. Chapter 11

Three weeks later they were back in town and, after promising to wait for her, Peter had dropped Kala off at the confessional. Kala didn't particularly understand human religion, nor did she want to. She knew that their God favored them, and that was why the first fathers gave elves magic. Judging by everything she'd seen of human culture, she was fairly certain that magic was the better gift. Kala neglected to factor in that she was the last free member of her species.

"You look lovely today."

"Why thank you," as an elf, Kala looked better than a human every day. As an elf noble, she was stunning on her worst days. However she remembered that human women liked approval and- she had to admit- it felt good to be complimented.

"That color blue emphasizes the flushing pallor of your skin. And you're beautiful reddening was brought about only by my voice…" The man behind the curtain was rewarded by a pity laugh from Kala.

"I wasn't aware that confessions were supposed to be like this."

"Are you a Catholic?"

"I'm learning. This is my first confession."

"Well let me give you a little instruction. I sit in this booth all day, if I had to talk like a pompous windbag to everyone who comes in then I would lose my voice. I would also sound incredibly boring. But if you insist, tell me your sins."

Kala thought. "I'm not sure if this is necessarily a sin, but tonight is my marriage moon and I'm concerned about it."

"You're getting married? Are you worried about losing your maidenhood?"

"I'm already married. But tonight is the night I will be made a woman, yes." Kala felt uncomfortable sharing information with the priest, but he was sworn to secrecy, a voice between man and God. She knew that human slaves prayed to their God but she'd never heard of an elf doing such. "I'm not worried about the details of the consummation, however I feel like it would be a betrayal of my people, of everything I stand for."

"You know, a lot of women feel the same way when they grow up. They worry if losing their honor is as sinful as they say. Most women though, worry that they will be unable to please their husbands in bed. But you are so beautiful that any son of Adam would be willing to lie with you, and they would treat you as a goddess, and they would take any pleasure that you would be willing to give them." The priest was very emphatic; Kala could hear him panting slightly on the other side of the curtain.

"That isn't exactly it."

"What is your name daughter?" The priest asked.

"It's Kala."

"Well, Kala, I can help you."

"How?"

"Very easily. Priests are godly men, Kala, but I've seen the world outside this confessional. I can help you with your insecurities. You're as sweet as honey, with musk strong enough to lure anyone. Your hair is as black as the enchanting sky, your lips as red as hell, and all the while you tempt me with your tiny waste and perfect bosom."

Kala became increasingly less flattered and more uncomfortable by the word. She pulled her shawl tightly across her chest cursing the exposure of human dresses. Cut low and tight, this dress was designed only to show her off, the border of black cambric against the blue merely emphasized.

"Now Kala, I have only one question. Behind that blindfold, what color are your eyes."

"Black."

"Perfect." The divider curtain parted. The priest was touching her shoulder. There was heat, pain, and a blinding light that left spots hovering even in her covered eyes. She knew the priest would be unable to harm her, and she unsteadily rose to her feet. Completely exhausted, she was unaware that she had fallen back into the rubble of the confessional, rather she felt like she was floating away on an elven cloak, going to see her father.

"Kala wake up! Are you hurt? Can you walk?" Peter's voice shook her into consciousness.

She groaned. "Why am I covered in dust?"

"You don't know?" Peter's face red stunned disbelief.

"If I knew, I wouldn't be asking."

"Kala, we have to get out of here. A lightning bolt came out of clear sky and struck the confessional. It was blasted into fragments in every direction. The priest is nothing but burnt lumps of flesh. I'm astounded that you're unharmed, it's a miracle!" Peter tugged her up. "But no one else will think it was a miracle. Kala, they're going to want to try you as a witch, and they will tar and feather me with the same brush. We need to leave quickly."

"Oh." There was nothing more to say. Her magic had killed someone. If she had been a human she would have fallen to her knees and begged for forgiveness, or else prayed for thanksgiving. She wasn't sure which this qualified as, but the warrior in her soul was cheering for blood. Kala was disinclined to quiet it.


	12. Chapter 12

From a trunk, Kala lifted her green elvish dress. As she slipped it over her head, the first winds of spring blew through the window and brushed the stretchy fabric across her knees. After a winter in human clothes, she felt ready to dance through the night. But she couldn't. After some argument she had been allowed to keep her old clothing as pajamas, maybe she could dance in her dreams?

"The moon is rising." Peter wrapped his arms around her waist from behind and pulled her close.

Kala stared at the moon, her marriage moon. It cast inviting shadows in the woods; they were calling towards her, stretching invitingly from the trees into the window. "So it is." Her blood was boiling at his touch. "I am ready."

Peter turned her around so her back was pressed against the window frame. The moonlight flashed over her face, reflected from her eyes, and nested in her hair highlighting blue and silver streaks. Peter bent to kiss her and the stars appeared to lower, she could see them, but she could feel them wheeling just above her head. They were her unconscious. Kala was completely in the now. She could feel her husband's lips on hers, tentative at first, then possessive, then gone. Opening her eyes, she saw Peter staring past her in extreme concentration. "What is it?" She asked.

"I thought I saw something moving, but apparently not." He bent to kiss her again, but she pulled away.

"Let me look."

"It was just my imagination Kala." Peter tried to reengage again and was again rejected.

"I can see in the dark as clearly as you can in the day." She turned, and then recoiled pushing Peter to the floor. A bottle flew through the window then cracked open. Fumes rose off of the spill but no immediate danger. There was danger outside though; Kala could feel the air pulsating. She braced herself against the wave of nausea; all she could think of was goblins attacking. So what if her father had said the harrowing was over? Focusing, she constructed a map in her head. Pinpoints of light indicated the location of a mob around the house.

"Damn, we forgot to light it." The whisper was carried in on a draft. The English reassured her. She wouldn't be underground tonight then. Flint hit steel and she could hear the fizzing of a flame. Another bottle sailed in, this one armed.

Kala touched Peter's head and moved her fingers precisely. "Go." Peter dove for the door with Kala on his heels. Behind them, the house caught fire. "Listen very carefully; this house is surrounded by a group of humans armed with torches and blunt objects."

Peter just stared at her blankly but quickly regained composure. "Why are we just standing here like sitting ducks? We need to move now!"

"You need to hold still. Right now, they can't see us but I can see them perfectly." Indeed she could, they were circling the house noisily. Their attempts for secrecy were pitiful.

"Why would I listen to you? Your witchcraft brought them in the first place."

"You are listening to me because my witchcraft is the reason that they haven't bludgeoned us to death with their spades. You are listening to me because I learned my tricks from my warlord father. And finally, you are listening to me because I am your wife and your only chance for survival."

Something in her eyes must have told him she was indeed serious. "Okay, what do we do?"

"Do you see those twin oaks?" As Peter stared into the darkness she sighed. "Never mind. I'll just lead you. Currently we appear invisible but as soon as we move they'll be able to see us. When I start running, you will have to follow me and run as fast as you can. It's likely that they'll chase us. Ready?"

She didn't wait for a response. She dropped their shield and sprinted for the forest edge. Peter tripped on her heels a few times but didn't stop. The men circling closed in but Kala summoned a wind and knocked them away. In the woods, Kala decreased her speed slightly so Peter could follow her. The trees should have blurred in her vision, but adrenaline separated them. Eventually, only after she could no longer hear her pursuit, she slowed down to a walk.

Peter knocked her onto the forest floor. He was breathing heavily and had sticks ensnared in his hair. Blood trickled from thin scratches on his arms where he'd been lashed by the undergrowth. "What was that?" He asked.

"Something that, were he not dead, my father would kill me for." Kala thought for a moment, "either that or he'd praise me for my ingenuity." Silently she prayed that Peter would remain in a state of shock and not remember her magic.

"You did magic."

Kala couldn't deny it.


	13. Chapter 13

A contraction wracked Kala's body; she rode it out with a yell. "Go get the midwife already!"

"Are you certain that you'll be okay on your own?"

"Without a midwife I'll be dead before the baby is born. Now get out!"

The door slammed behind him.

Between the screams Kala put the pain out of her mind. The daughter of a warlord would not be overcome by something as natural as childbirth. The idea of giving in was ridiculous, unthinkable. However there was a nagging doubt that flitted into her head- she was an elf without magical assistance, the natural process was death. Shaking out the thought, she refocused; there was no room for error here. For a blissfilled moment she felt nothing, then refocused on the pain at a cracking protest from her pelvis. Kala gritted her teeth and smiled, the result would be worth the agony.

Being pregnant was a miracle. Peter, against all odds had stayed with her after they were driven into the forest. Living as gypsies would, he had never complained about their increasingly elvish lifestyle. He found their new life strange, but was silenced by Kala's eternal smile. Amazingly they lived without magic. In what she assumed was a coping mechanism, Peter had completely forgotten that Kala could use magic, that he had confronted her about it. Loyally he had stayed with her and now, on the first new moon of autumn, seven years later, his patience would pay off.

After two hours, Peter had not returned with the midwife and Kala had reneged on her earlier opinion. Pregnancy was decidedly not a blessing. "There is a reason… that elves… and humans… don't… interbreed!" There was no response from the ceiling. Her magic was at a loss for dealing with internal threat, but still reacting to it. At the moment, small sparks were flying around the room, trying to deal with the unseen attacker. One hit the curtains singeing a small hole, another hit a piece of crockery causing a small explosion. Kala's hair was crackling with the electricity, covering her head with a black cloud.

The door opened as a bolt was tracking towards the water bucket. Between contractions, thankfully, Kala had the ability to stop it before Peter could see. "How's it going?" He called warily.

"Absolutely marvellou…ahh!"

"Get out of the way boy. If you can't be helpful, I promise that you will be waiting outside." Mrs. Coplin ordered. She pushed Peter aside roughly and entered the house.

Kala gathered her breath. "What are you doing here?"

"Kala, honey, no real midwife worth her salt is going to traipse through these woods at night to help a legendarily crazy woman through childbirth. Peter asked everyone in town before coming to me, he honestly knelt and begged me to come out here. That being said, your new house is lovely. I could hardly see a woman like you coming to stay in the town. This place is so far away that I never could have found it if Peter hadn't been pulling my arm."

Kala didn't have the presence of mind to deal with Mrs. Coplin's small talk. She wished her elvish mother, whom she'd barely known, were there working the magic on her. Having a human mother-in-law there didn't cut it. Admittedly she probably preferred the woman to a stranger, but this woman had mishealed her father. It would be ironic if this woman's careless nursing, not a goblin, caused the death of the last elf.

Noticing her discomfort, Mrs. Coplin turned to her son. "Peter, I'm surprised that you haven't gotten that water boiling yet." She had switched to business mode. Her orders to Peter stayed concise and clear, to Kala she kept a meaningless stream of talk that distracted from the pain a little.

It was more intense now, more regular. The baseline between contractions kept Kala's eyes rolled back in her skull. All excess energy, of which there wasn't much, was focused on containing the magic. She couldn't suppress both the magic and the pain simultaneously.

"Peter grab her hand, she's almost ready." Kala was surprised lightning didn't jump from her body when he took hit. She was mildly comforted. "Kala, in a few moments I'll ask you to push. Use Peter as a way to express your pain."

Kala enclosed Peter's hand in a death grip. He shrieked like a little girl but she wasn't listening, she was in primal instinct mode. The flesh holding the baby back tore as it crowned and she echoed her husband's scream. Pushing seemed timeless, eternal. After a marathon labor she had reached her last mile.

Out of the darkness came the dawn and with it, the sounds of a crying baby. Endorphins flooded Kala's body squinted against the light that reflected off the baby's damp curls. The labor would never be forgotten, but the horror was diminished. Peter rushed to close the shades, then instantly returned to her side. "A girl," he said, then kissed Kala on the forehead.

"Elizabeth." She said. "After your mother." She narrowed her eyes in exhaustion, but never took them from her daughter. Kala knew that it was still likely this would be the only time she'd ever get the chance to see her.

Mrs. Coplin smiled up from where she was stitching the ruptured membranes. "I deserve it too, after all this work I've put into you." She tied a knot, "you're all sewn up and should be fine. Now I'm going to head home to feed my own daughters." Taking the afterbirth with her, she left the house.

Kala took the hint, moved Elizabeth to her breast, and the infant began suckling. "She's such a beautiful child." Peter commented. "Perfect in every way."

Too enraptured to pay attention, Kala ignored him.

Peter brushed the short curls. "My only question is why she is blond? Both of us are dark." He continued stroking her hair. Examining every inch of her face, memorizing it, he stopped in shock. "What's wrong with her ears?"


	14. Chapter 14

After seven years of hiding her secret would be discovered. How careless to not think that her daughter would look elvish. The instinctive lie was heavy on her tongue, but lying was a human trait. Would her father look down on her more for betraying her race or her pride? Hesitantly Kala pushed her hair away from her face and revealed her own pointed ears. "Elizabeth takes after me. She is blond because her bloodline has been diluted."

"What?" Peter reeled backward and nearly fell over.

"You'll probably want to hear this sitting down." Kala patted the space at her side. Only after Peter complied did she continue. "Elizabeth is an elf-human cross."

Peter's jaw dropped leaving him gaping like a fish. "What? How? You can't be an elf; they're just something from children's tales."

"I am though. I'm the last of my kind. I never thought that I could have a child after the remainder of my band was killed. Elves and humans don't interbreed as a rule."

"I'm married to a fantasy creature." Peter's voice was hollow with shock.

"Yes you are. Now hold your daughter so I can test her magic."

"You can do magic?" He accepted Elizabeth but kept his eyes on Kala, begging her to say she was kidding.

"Of course. You've seen it before on the night that we escaped the mob." She effectively silenced her husband. "Wait a second and you can see it again." Kala had seen her father test Velin and Callow for magical strength when they were born; as powerful as he, she assumed she could mimic it. Kala turned Elizabeth's hand over and focused on drawing out the magic. Elizabeth's palm glowed weakly and a few sparks flickered feebly and faded.

Peter was awed. A small smile crept over his face, turning up the corners of his lips. "She's so magical!"

Kala, however, was disappointed. She had held hope that her daughter would be as strong as an elf King. The only known elf-human crosses, the Kings embodied all that was elvish and had magic worth a dozen linked lords. "Hardly more than a human." She said bitterly. "I bet she'll have daylight eyes."

"What do you mean? Sparks came out of her hand."

"Watch this." Kala extended her own hand and focused. Elizabeth's sparks were dimmed to nothing compared to the flares flooding from her own palm. Kala closed her eyes against the silvery lilies and snapdragons that emerged for nearly two minutes. At the end of that time, a supernova of light burst out dazzling even Peter. The afterimages burned in their eyes.

For a moment they sat in silence. Kala, with her eyes still closed, could feel her husband's stare. "Maybe," Peter offered, "being less magical will help Elizabeth adapt better to her world."

"What do you mean her world?"

"Kala look around." Peter said. "You can't. With all your impressive elvish magic, you'll never be able to see the way the sun reflects off your daughter's hair. I, a nonmagical human, can. Elizabeth is a blend between us; she isn't going to be content in your world of darkness."

"My world is hardly dark. The night brims in color, from the deep green of the leaves to the silver rim of the moon." She protested. Kala may have lived in the daylight, but she harbored her love for the night.

"I was talking about the darkness inside you." Peter said. "I know that you love dancing in the twilight, but I also am the one who holds you when you scream at night. I'm not sure what demons haunt your dreams, but I don't want our daughter to share them."

"Not demons, goblins." Kala muttered. "And if Elizabeth doesn't share my world, they'll get her anyway."


	15. Chapter 15

Kala screamed to greet the rising moon. Desperate for silence she stuffed her mouth with a pillow. Elizabeth was six, and her masked elvish nature caused her difficulty falling asleep. It also gave her superior hearing. Kala didn't want her waking, didn't want her witnessing this. Peter was making tracks in front of their door, Mrs. Coplin, who was practicing midwifery again, had already kicked him out. Her coaching was not helping Kala at all, although the commands to breathe gave her a focus. Ragged pants occasionally rose into gasping moans, but for the most part her self control was enough.

This second labor was so much harder than the first, and Elizabeth's hadn't been a cakewalk. It had been worthwhile though, and although Kala constantly fought disappointment in her daughter's lack of magic, she still loved her. She loved her family more than anything. Kala could only hope that the new addition would fit in as well. Pain fueled deliria and Kala looked back over her life with her family.

She thought of the dawn, where Peter would tenderly cover her eyes before opening the curtains to wake Elizabeth. She could feel the warmth of the sunlight as it crept across her face, she could only imagine how it looked to her daughter. As predicted, Elizabeth had daylight eyes. They, along with her other senses were more acute than average, but not elvish in nature. Elvish was Elizabeth's love of the night, of the moon, of the world around her. And to cultivate this, every evening Kala would tell her stories of life in the camps. She taught Elizabeth many things about their people, but never revealed the secret. Kala knew that her daughter would end up with a human, and that not all humans were as tolerant as Peter.

Across the hall, Kala could hear Elizabeth stirring in bed. She felt a scream roaring up her throat and suppressed it with difficulty. Kala couldn't mask the muffled cracking noise coming from her pelvis, or the primal shriek that followed. Unlike the simple membrane rupture that Elizabeth had inflicted on her, this new baby had broken bones. The pain flowed over her in ceaseless waves, and over the sound of her breathing, was the sound of vomiting. Elizabeth was awake.

Soft footsteps were racing but Peter beat Elizabeth into the room. He stood at her bedside staring at her in terror. Mrs. Coplin bravely continued her coaching but Kala didn't care, she could only whimper pitifully and accept her fate. Elvish women weren't supposed to give birth alone, without magic another process sometimes set in that allowed the survival of the child. Kala hoped desperately that that was the outcome. She had had six beautiful years with a child who shouldn't have existed. The child that should have killed her, the child that she saw without seeing.

Elizabeth shrieked when she reached the birthing room and Kala knew what she was seeing. The room was covered in blood. It stained the walls, the floor, and the sheets. Kala's skin was stained with it in some places, but in other she was ashen. Peter attempted to trap their daughter, but Elizabeth pushed past him. Kala looked on with unexpressed pride as her daughter worked innate magic. Elizabeth would never know what Kala knew. That she daughter had power, and although her face was contorted in pain, she had never been more pleased. Elizabeth shrieked again, cutting through the chaos but still adding to it.

"Peter." Kala whispered. Everything now was fading out except her husband's. Her beloved home, her mangled pelvis, even her daughter, were ignored. Kala had a final agenda.

"Love?"

"Is the baby alive?"

"No, it's trapped inside still." Peter was grave. Meeting his eyes took effort, but when looking into them it was clear he knew the worst was happening. They had discussed it from the moment she knew she was pregnant a second time. When the pregnancy lasted more than the human nine months, they talked more frequently.

"It hurts me."

"I know love, but it will be over soon." He forced optimism for her.

"It will be over soon." Kala echoed his statement numbly. She was staring at death's door.

Peter only had eyes for his wife. He ignored Elizabeth who had retreated to his side in confusion. "You need to call on the strength that's held you through all of these long years in the sun."

"They've been happy years. I have no regrets." Kala said.

Peter was openly crying now. "I love you so much."

"I'm afraid." She was ashamed to admit but it was true. She was unwilling to concede to death, she certainly didn't want to greet it with her infant son in her arms. Her second eyes could see him there, black hair and black eyes, his skin reflecting the moonlight slightly. The elf that she hadn't had in her daughter.

"You, afraid? You're the daughter of a great military commander; you aren't allowed to feel fear." Kala cracked a pained smile at him.

And in that moment, convinced by the smile, Elizabeth ran to her side. She was in the place of honor to see Kala's eyes fade from jet black to a dull charcoal. Kala didn't see Elizabeth, she saw her father reaching to her, commenting on her beautiful son. She saw Ban and Callow, her band was finally together again. A keening wail touched the last edges of her consciousness. Exhausted, Kala chose her world instead.


	16. Chapter 16

Kala was buried in an unmarked grave deep in the forest. Peter selected the spot, secluded at the base of an ash and surrounded by sedges, he claimed it was by chance. In his heart he knew that he wanted to be able to find it again. It was the human way to mourn the dead, by having a place of remembrance. Apparently it wasn't the elvish way, but he wasn't erecting a monument. Kala would have seen it as a compromise.

Pine boughs shielded her body from the goblin soil, and her elvish skirts were arrayed about her legs. Rather than digging a separate grave for his son or the Monster as Elizabeth called him, Peter placed him at his mother's breast. They didn't look asleep, but they looked peaceful enough. Shadows fell across her face as the sun set on the last elf. Peter couldn't stand it anymore he gestured for Elizabeth to sprinkle the first handful of dirt on the bodies. She obeyed vehemently. A clod laden with aggregate was hurled at the baby, exploding on contact. Too exhausted to chide her, he picked up the shovel and began the arduous process of saying goodbye.

Elizabeth was digging her own hole behind him, mimicking the mourning process. Peter knew she felt more confusion and anger than sadness, he also sympathized with her more than was appropriate. He wished he was her age, too young to understand that death was a part of life, still able to assign blame freely. She blamed the Monster. Peter quieted the part of his soul that agreed with her. He had been the one to pry the baby from his wife's corpse. He was repulsed by its elongated limbs and torso, he recoiled at the smooth expression on its blued face.

"Do all elf men treat their women as expendable?" Peter asked. Kala's face was obscured by the dirt, but there was a rustling in the branches that made him hope she had hear. Kala had always fidgeted when he talked in life, why would death be any different.

Comforted by her presence, he shared his fears with his dead wife. "I can't raise Elizabeth like you did. I don't know your beautiful language, I don't know the stories, I don't know the names. But it isn't because I am not able that I won't raise her as an elf. It's because I don't want to. I don't want her to live like you did."

"You've always commented that she looks rather human. I never agreed. Hopefully though, you were right. I want to take her out of these woods, she's as resilient as her warrior ancestors and the daylight is her element. I want her to forget this horror." The trees creaked as the wind stirred them again. "Stop complaining, you know that I'm right."

He shoveled a moment more in silence, enjoying the companionship she'd never given him in life. Peter was completely at one with the earth, with everything. He could almost taste his life, pungent and bitter, coursing through his veins. The vitality was painful. "I'm going to Hallow Hill tonight. The master offered me a position for the season. He has a daughter a little younger than Elizabeth, so I've billed it as vacation. I can't wait to get out of the darkness and into society, but I promise I'll come back to you again."

Tamping the dirt down with the shovel's blade, he took a last look at the gravesite. Tearing his eyes away he called his daughter, "come Elizabeth. We have a carriage to catch." He offered her his hand to lead her home.

The somber expression lifted and was replaced with her normal glow. Elizabeth was truly a daughter of the sun; open and honest, she had a cheerful disposition- unless she was in a fiery rage. He grimaced as she opened her mouth with the omnipresent question "Why?"

"Because I have a job offer too far away to walk, and you're coming with me."

"I've never ridden in a carriage before."

Peter laughed at the gravity of her statement. "I know that, which is why it will be fun."


	17. Chapter 17

As the carriage jostled them towards Hallow Hill, Peter was engulfed by guilt. Across from him, Elizabeth bounced with her own energy and with the motion of the horses. Enthusiastically she gestured to sheep, cows, trees, occasionally naming them in elvish as well as English. Peter loved her indescribably. Her blue eyes were widened with an innocent wonder, her hair was radiant. They'd struggled through brushing it that morning, Peter had won.

Peter signaled to the driver as the approached a huge hill. "Let's take a quick look around before we arrive." Cramped after a night and day inside, Elizabeth eagerly hopped out.

"Daddy, I bet we can see everything from up there!"

"I think so too." He led her up the hill on a path of winding switchbacks. "Your mother would be able to tell you why locals call this place Hollow Hill. I can't."

The moon was rising as the crested the hill. Stars peppered the sky in the gaps of the canopy. They lit his way. The wind was gentle, touching his face. Peter thought it was Kala's forgiveness. "Daddy look!"

Elizabeth had discovered a circle of twin oaks guarding the hilltop. Peter passed through the trunks reverently, these giants had stood longer than any human building had. Kala had whispered stories about the tree circle being a revered place, somewhere peaceful and safe. "Well what do you think of it?" He asked.

"I feel so free!" She was skipping through the grasses, touching flowers and rocks. "Look, a dancing ring." A circle of button mushrooms surrounded her, she spun until she fell over. "This place is so magical, I never want to leave."

Peter never wanted to leave her but he wasn't meant to be a single parent. "Elizabeth, how would you like to stay here when I meet the master?"

"Of course."

He memorized every line on her upturned face. "Okay, I need you to wait here until I come back. Don't wander off." She was nodding in assent. Peter's heart was breaking as he pointed at the ground. "Look Elizabeth, there's a beetle."


End file.
